“Mother and sister, that’s all.”
“’Ard work for you to get a livin’, I suppose?”
“So, so. We’re used to farm-work. The trouble’s to keep the other women off.”
“Ah!” replied Gosling reflectively, and the two looked at one another again.
“You ’ungry?” asked the girl.
“Not to speak of,” replied Gosling. “But I’m fair pinin’ for a change o’ diet. Been livin’ on tinned things for five weeks or more.”
“Come in and have an egg,” said the girl.
“Thank you,” said Gosling, “I will, with pleasure.”
They grew friendly over that meal—two eggs and a glass of milk. He ate the eggs with butter, but there was no bread. It seemed that the young woman’s mother and sister were at work on the farm, but that one of them had always to stay at home and keep guard.
They discussed the great change that had come over England, and wondered what would be the end of it; and after a little time, Gosling began to look at the girl with a new expression in his pale blue eyes.